


The Duel

by TheStargazer



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 05:53:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12006420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStargazer/pseuds/TheStargazer
Summary: What would happen if Éomer in his protectiveness of his sister had challenged Faramir to a duel? It would be a calamity, and ways out would be hard to find. We step into the mind of Faramir after the duel has been challenged, trying to remain calm as well as calm his livid fiancée. Luckily for us, Éowyn has an idea, one that her trusty halfling friends happily abide.[Note]: This is a "what if?" standalone fiction, without connection to others (because Éomer would not have actually challenged Faramir to a duel!).(just one more little note - "min elskede" is Norwegian for "my beloved", and given Rohirric's nordic roots and connections, seemed a fitting Rohirric term of endearment.)Tolkien's works and characters do not belong to me.





	The Duel

“That that…  _ fiend _ .”  
“Éowyn, please stop pacing.”  
“That  _ fink _ ”  
“Min elskede, you are speaking about the King of Rohan”  
“I am speaking about my overprotective idiotic brother. Same person.”

Faramir quit while he was ahead, sighing. So it came to pass. He was going to have to duel for his soon to be brother-in-law for the hand of his beloved. He was glad that he had started exercising with Beregond. While the swordplay still pained him, his strength and agility were coming back.

“It will be fine. I will double my swordplay, and hope to fight him to a draw,” Faramir had given up trying to follow Éowyn’s pacing, to grab her hand to reassure her things would be fine.

“No. He should never have acted so pig-headed. If I could get my hands on  _ him _ …”  
“It would cause an international incident.”  
“He is already  _ causing one. _ ”

Éowyn was beat red, and truth be told, Faramir’s insides were squirming. Was his swordwork a match for the King of Rohan? Éomer had won renown on during the War of the Ring, coming out miraculously unscathed. And Faramir’s left shoulder still pained him in the morning, but Beregond had finally stopped taking it easy on him. Suddenly, Éowyn stopped pacing. She had that twinkle that always appeared when an idea came to her. Then came the sly smile. Yes, she had an idea.

“I’ll be back,” Éowyn glided to him, placed a kiss upon his lips, then was off, “I have two Hobbits I must speak with.”

Faramir shook his head. He had but a week to prepare to cross swords with Éomer, his future brother-in-law. The Steward of Gondor was about to fight the King of Rohan for the hand of the Princess of Rohan. After Éomer had already sent a letter consenting to the match. No wonder Éowyn was so livid.

For the rest of the week, Faramir was on the field every moment he could spare, practicing, with Beregond, and any others that Beregond saw fit to spar with the Steward, mostly his Ithilien Rangers. By day 3, Faramir could anticipate most moves of his foe, by day 4, Faramir did not need to think about where his feet were, and by the end of the week, Faramir’s feet and arms danced in synchrony with the singing blades. He never rejoiced in the use of the sword, but he had to admit, the dance of a swordfight was something of beauty. And he knew in this fight, there would not be bloodshed or death, simply honor.

But what honor? If he lost, he would prove himself unfit to wed Éomer’s beloved little sister, the light that ignited his heart. His  _ elskede _ . If he won, Éomer would be shamed. The Steward of Gondor would have humiliated the  _ king _ of his closest ally. And so, Faramir had practiced all those hours to make sure he had the stamina for a draw. He hoped Éowyn’s assessment that he was the superior swordsman had been correct. Even the soon-to-be King of Gondor had come to his courtyard one night, to help him. That had been the most beautiful dance of them all. And so Faramir was ready. To face his beloved’s brother. In a duel for her hand and for his honor.

On the day of the duel, a crowd had assembled on the field. There he saw Éomer, proud and handsome, and also agitated? Ah, yes. There she was, his light. Arguing with her brother, and both appeared as red in face as the rising sun. He wondered how long they had been having this disagreement. Both were stubborn, but he thought that Éowyn had the right of it, that putting on this performance for her hand was dishonorable to her. True, only a few knew that Éomer had already consented to the match, so the outward damage had been minimal. But both Éowyn and Faramir had felt the sting of Éomer’s challenge. Faramir felt ashamed for taking part, but he had to. Éowyn knew she could not ask him to abjure, for he would do as she asked without hesitation.   
  
On the field, Éowyn had shaken her head and walked away from her brother, fire and fury in her eyes. She turned around to address the crowd. Just before she made her way to her seat in the arena, she had glanced quickly at two Hobbits, who had donned the colors of Rohan and Gondor for the occasion.  _ Odd _ , thought Faramir, but then a flickering of understanding came to him.

“Good ladies and gentlemen, of Gondor and of Rohan,” Éowyn addressed them all in her musical voice, “My  _ brother _ , Éomer, son of Éomund, King of Rohan has challenged Faramir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, to a duel in honor, for my hand.”

Faramir had not missed the mirth in her voice at her brother. He caught one more sidelong glance toward the Hobbits. Merry had stood, and was approaching the field.

“My lady! I stand in the stead of the King of Rohan, as I am honor and duty-bound to do. Therefore I shall challenge the Steward of Gondor to this duel for your hand, as an honorable squire of Rohan, bound to my King.” Merry exclaimed to the crowd, there it was.

“My lady, I fight in the stead of the Steward of Gondor, as I am honor and duty-bound to do. Therefore I shall challenge Meriadoc Brandybuck, squire of Rohan, in the place of Éomer King of Rohan, to this duel, bound as I am to my Steward.” Pippin had jumped up, and was following Merry onto the field. It was clear that they had rehearsed.

The crowd had gotten to its feet, and he could hear the excited roars all around him. He looked first at Éowyn, and saw a small smile on her face. His elskede was an absolute genius. Faramir then chanced a glance at Éomer, and saw a look of disbelief cross his face, and then a look of amused defeat crossed his face as he looked to his sister. There it was, a small smile.  _ Yes Éomer, _ Faramir smiled inwardly,  _ our beloved Éowyn and those remarkable Hobbits have bested us all this day. _

“Éomer, King of Rohan, do you accept this substitution, knowing that it would dishonor Meriadoc the Courageous to so refuse his stand?” Éowyn spoke sternly, but she was laughing inside, Faramir could see that twinkle.

Éomer had been defeated, “Yes. I accept. Meriadoc, squire of Rohan, go forth with all the honor of your King.”

“And Faramir, Steward of Gondor, do you accept this substitution, knowing that it would dishonor Peregrine the Bold to so refuse his stand?” Éowyn looked at Faramir, and he could read the ‘ _ told you _ ’ on her face. He loved her so much.

“Of course I accept. Peregrine, squire of Gondor, go forth with all the honor of your Steward.”

The crowd had begun laughing and cheering the small Hobbits on, so honor-bound they were to duel for their King and Steward.

“Please then, choose your weapons.” Éowyn looked at both solemnly.  
“Big stick.” Merry and Pippin said in unison.   


The crowd bellowed an enormous cheer. The Hobbits gathered their weapons, then bowed to Éowyn.

“Then let this duel begin!”

Merry and Pippin bowed to one another, and then the duel began. Faramir had thought it would be an affair of entertainment, but he saw that both Hobbits were not without skill. Their stickplay was just as graceful and harmonious as any sword exercise Faramir had done. It was time to stop underestimating Hobbits. After both had shown their skills, and gotten good clean blows upon one another, Faramir saw a silent signal pass between them, and both stopped and dropped their weapons.

“We declare this duel to be over, ending in a draw,” Merry spoke to the crowd first.  
“For the honor of both the Steward of Gondor and of the King of Rohan are so high that to choose between them would be a grievous error,” Pippin continued.

“And so, declare we, that the hand of the Lady Éowyn should now and forever be awarded to…  _ the Lady Éowyn _ , to give to whomever she pleases!” Merry finished

Éowyn smiled at the Hobbits so broadly that light emanated from her, and Faramir’s world fell out of focus. She had stepped from her seat, and onto the field to the Hobbits. Folding both into an enormous hug. Éowyn then stood tall, and with a look beckoned both Faramir and Éomer to her. Faramir came without a question. He would always come to her. Then Éowyn held out her hand to Faramir, and he took it.

Éomer looked crestfallen, but then Éowyn extended her other hand, and Éomer took it.

“I give my hand and heart freely to Faramir, Steward of Gondor.” Éowyn’s voice held two notes, one proud and mighty to the people assembled, and one soft and loving, only for Faramir, “But too, will I always have room in my heart for my people of Rohan, especially its King, my brother.”

Éowyn glanced now at Éomer, and Faramir could see her project her love out to her brother. There were now bigger cheers throughout the arena, and in the cacophony, Éowyn said a few more soft words, only meant for them.

“I will always be here for you brother. You don’t need to challenge others for my affection, in fear that I would rip it away from you. I will never lose my love for you Éomer, and I will be there every time you need me.” Éowyn squeezed Éomer’s hand.

“And I too Éomer. You have gained a brother, now and forever.” Faramir looked earnestly at the sad eyes of the proud King of Rohan, “And should you want to test my skill, to be  _ sure _ that I can protect your sister, most precious to both you and me, then I like to take swordplay exercises in the Steward’s courtyard, and would love to match our skills.  _ Out of the sights of the city. _ ”

Éomer looked to Faramir, and then laughed and smiled.

“Dinner. Tomorrow night. I shall bring my sword.” Éomer bowed to Faramir. Threw a single sidelong glance back at his sister, then collected his brave Hobbit squire, and was off.

Faramir let go of Éowyn too, and kneeled before his own brave Hobbit squire, “You were brilliant Pippin. A fine knight of Gondor you will be.”

“So you’ll knight me then?” Pippin looked keen

“I will let our new King do that, but I will be standing beside him when he does.” Faramir smiled.

“As will I.” Éowyn sidled back up to Faramir, taking his arm, “I can’t thank you or Merry enough. And I must say, that was some fine swordwork on your part! I shall never be surprised by the skills or courage of Hobbits, but it was a wonder to see it on display like that.”

Pippin bowed to them, then headed off, likely to find Merry, or to the kitchens, probably both. It mattered not. Pippin and Merry now had leave of the Steward  _ and _ the King of Rohan to harry the cooks. Faramir imagined when Aragorn was crowned, that would make the count three.

“Come _min elskede_ , my hand is now yours, and I should like to walk with you to watch the sunset in the gardens,” Éowyn moved her hand into his, and whispered those words, bringing an electric tingle to his ear.

“I should be glad of it.  _ Thank you, wisest of us. _ ”   
“Thank the Hobbits. And when it comes to my brother, always assume that I will win.”  
“Of that I have no doubt.”

And so they walked, hand in hand, up through the city, to enjoy the sunset. Faramir was not sure how he had gotten so lucky. The bravery of Hobbits. The wisdom of Éowyn. The protectiveness of Éomer. These were new parts of his family, and he was glad.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think that Éomer would ever do anything of this sort, but it was fun thinking about how all the other characters would react to save all from losing face.


End file.
